Rising From Ashes
by orientalbunny
Summary: Jareth is summoned to take away a child and is shocked to find Sarah dying before him. He does not understand her actions nor her silence but vows to help her break her self imposed curse. This is rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 The Calling

Title: Rising From Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own the labyrinth or any of the characters in it. This story will in no way bring me profit or gain. That said and done, I hope people will be patient with me, for though I love the characters of the labyrinth like a child, my writing is sadly just as childish. I am a newbie and this is my first attempt at a fanfiction about Jareth and Sarah. Advice, reviews, criticisms are more than welcome.

Chapter One: The Calling

Her eyes drooped.

Sarah William's heart thudded dully, slowing as her energy drained. The painful fuzziness that had first started at her toes and face now permeated into deeper layers of her skin everywhere. Everything began to ache and stars formed in the outer edges of her vision.

A tiny sound caught her attention and for a moment chased away a star or two.

"Melody…" the word started as a small gasp and then blended into a long slur. She was forgetting. But the moment… she had to say something, before it passed. Her eyes fluttered, and fought for clarity.

Her eyes almost shut when the same cry from earlier startled her awake.

Her heartbeat, creating little explosions of red to flit across her vision, made it nearly impossible to see the baby now starting to wail in its crib. Yes, this was the only way. The words reverberated in her mind, finally emerging through pale trembling lips.

"I wish…" she whispered, aching, "the goblin king would come… and take you away…" Her eyes glazed and the room darkened as she rallied her strength; the words slipping out just in time, "right now."

Darkness took her pain away.


	2. Chapter 2 Jareth's Pain

Title: Rising From Ashes

Chapter Two: Jareth's Pain 

I held onto one of your bandaged wrists.

We were both in my sleeping quarters; you rested on my bed, deprived of too much energy, sleeping a sleep too deep to be roused from. Still holding your hand, I sat beside you, full of anger, full of pain.

I had dressed your wounds but could not wholly heal you. I am powerless to your dominant will; therefore, my magic could not undo your savage slashes. Oh Sarah, how could you? What caused such hate and pain? If you did not call me in time - God no - I can't even think of it.

No. You're safe now. I am here.

I look at you and my heart is breaking.

So pale.

I remember the first time I saw you, strong, vibrant, visibly radiating the power of someone who dreams. Your crude attire of a jeans and a shirt could not hide your beautiful body, nor could it hide your kind, valiant and wickedly stubborn soul.

Now you are so cold.

How could you Sarah?

You might as well have stabbed me with your razor.

I whisper your name but you do not stir. You have receded to a place where there is no pain.

The urge to touch you is overpowering. I must know you are still here with me.

My hand gravitates toward you, spellbound, but I can not feel you. Angrily, I strip my hands of its gloves. They hit the ground with a sharp slap. How could you not realize how you affect me? My hands are shaking, can you not feel how you stir my blood, awaken my demons?

I graze my knuckles slowly over the contours of your cheekbone. I can feel the deep fragile nature of your humanity, as the side of my hand slides over your soft skin.

Why is it so hard to breathe?

_Sarah._

Where has my brave Sarah gone?

When you last left me you were cruel in your innocence. The words you spoke were the very last thing I would ever hear from you, you left me broken, bereft of the strength of your dreams, of you. You did not once look back at me, confidant that I was the strong villain, the arrogant incorrigible Goblin King, able to recover from what you thought was only a blow to my ego.

How you wronged me.

You thought I did not notice, but yes Sarah, I do understand.

It had hurt you too, that crossroad we took. It was unfair to both of us. You wanted your dreams, I saw the desire to take what you want shine, hidden by your determination to do what you considered right. Your little brother could not stay here, and to my chagrin, I now realize, neither could you. So you turned your back on me, on us. But did you know that your dreams coincided with mine?

My dream was you.

It was always you.

And just moments ago you tried to take everything away from me.

Five years…

I pull myself to you, stroking your hair. My cold, naked fingers rake through your hair haphazardly. I should be more careful, but I can't help myself.

Five long years…

My hand wraps your hair around my white knuckles; they are shaking again as I cling to you, burying my grief into the depths of your raven hair. My cheek rests against you, and I am momentarily undone.

Sarah…

After all this time you finally call me only to… commit suicide?

Why?

Can you not see the power still pulsing in you? It is subdued now, but it remains nonetheless. And I have never had any power over you, surely you knew that.

Oh how you turned my world upside down.

I was powerless to stop you from leaving me, just as I am powerless to heal you.

I lay next to you, trying to collect myself as my cold fingers lace with yours.

What happened in the aboveworld to have caused such despair?

I think of the child you brought me to, and realize that you are now a mystery. What happened during the time you were away? The child is obviously yours, she is stunning with her inky black hair and bright hazel eyes, and not surprisingly she is similarly loud.

I watch the room darken as I pondered, to the point of weariness. With a flick of my wrist, candles lighten the abyss, as a resolve emerges in my mind.

Sarah. I will be your champion this time. I will lead you out of this dark solitude you have placed yourself in - and so help me - you will realize there is still power in you.


	3. Chapter 3 Hoggle's Decision

A bright red, white tipped tail swishes with impatience. Sir Didymus did not like standing idle, being quiet, or waiting, yet that seemed to be the only things he was allowed to do in the castle.

He shifted the cards in his paws and looked up to Ludo, who was supposed to go next in their game of "Go Fish." It was a game Sarah had taught them to play when they first entered her world. Personally, he liked "chess" best, especially when he was in possession of the white knights.

_Aahh, now that game had merit, _he thought. _How noble my knights are; to always sacrifice themselves in order that the queen may escape the treacherous black overlord._

He was constantly forgetting the rules Sarah had taught him, that it was the king, not the queen that needed protecting, and that the knights did not always need to be sacrificed. No for him, the game was about honor, not logic. Sir Didymus smiled, imaging himself a noble knight on a white steed, flying across a giant checkered board; so much so that he was oblivious to Ludo, who sat in front of him, stuffing the remaining cards into his mouth.

"I don't likes it," mumbles Hoggle, polishing his trinkets with a dull rag. He is the only one sitting at a small wooden table, adjacent to the doorway.

Ludo looks up toward Hoggle, one cheek slightly bulging with soggy cards, and makes a "Huh?" sound.

"I concur," says the fox, his tail now lying limply next to his feet, exposing his suddenly melancholy mood.

"Sarah…sad," whines Ludo, who now spits out the cards. It is a giant wad that falls with a sticky thud.

Sir Didymus also throws down his cards but in a fit of anger. "How can we just stand around idle when our lady is in trouble? She may be under some evil spell, one that needs three noble knights to find a cure!"

"Can it Sir Didymus!" hisses Hoggle, "you'll wake the kid."

Sir Didymus, looks over his shoulder to the crib near the window. The baby is still asleep.

"My apologies," says the noble fox, humbled. To protect the child of his fair lady, Sarah, was a very noble undertaking in his mind, albeit sometimes boring.

Hoggle stops polishing his trinkets and holds the rag between both hands forlornly. "Why would she do it?"

Everyone, even Ludo, understood what "it" he meant.

"She won'ts talk, nor eats, she jus stares and stares at the damn wall."

"I would think we should refrain from such words in front of the young one there," at this Sir Didymus jerked his head in the direction of the crib.

"Well, why can't Jareth do anything? He's supposed to be soooo powerful." At this Hoggle folds his arms in front of himself, "it's been two days since she woke up."

Methodically pulling at the ends of his whiskers, Sir Didymus peers at Hoggle with his one good eye, and then bows his head ever so slightly.

"I…don't think the king can help her."

Ludo looks between the two and softly whines, "Sarah…saaaadd."

"Argh! You just said that!" Hoggle thumps his hand on the table, "he's a king, with powers! Yous telling me that he can do absolutely nothing?" Hoggle clenched the rag in his hand and looked in the direction of Sarah's room._ I can understand Sarah not speaking to that crumb Jareth, but why not me? I thoughts we waz friends?_

Hoggle felt a small paw on his shoulder; he looked to find Sir Didymus perched on top of the table. _Pretty quick for your old age, I didn't even hear you._

"The king is bound by rules," at this the knight dips his head reverently, "like you and I…and sir Ludo too, we are bound to serve his majesty as befitting our rank. The king is bound to the rules of the labyrinth, regardless of his personal feelings."

"You meanz…"

"He can cajole her, coax her, tease, flirt, yell at her, but he can not go against her will. If my lady will not speak, he can not make her, and if she wants to return to her world…"

"Jareth can't stops her." Hoggle sighs. He can't help feeling like something is off though. _Sarah woulds have left if that waz what she wanted. She woulds have said something…that means…_ at this his mind is starting to whirl, _Sarah's silence is a call for help!_

Hoggle turns and briskly walks out the room, leaving Ludo and Sir Didymus to watch over Melody, who had just started to wake up and cry for food. Hoggle is starting to walk even faster now as a memory takes precedence in his mind. Sarah, in her room, looking forlornly into her vanity mirror, speaking to a reflection of him.

"_Shoulds you need us…for any reason at all,"_ _He had said. _

"_I do need you, Hoggle." She had spoken quietly, afraid perhaps it was the last time she would see him._

"_You – you do?" He sat up surprised, that after all the danger, when she was safe and happy at home, she would still want his company._

"_I don't know why, but every now and again in my life, I need you." _

She needed him, him…short and old, greedy Hoggle. To everyone else he was nothing but a stupid old dwarf, but to Sarah…he was a friend.

_To hell with everyone else. To hell with the rules._

Down the hall he ran, forgetting his fear of where he was going.

_I won't disappoint you Sarah. _At that Hoggle runs out of the castle and in the direction of the junk heap, to visit the gray witch.


	4. Chapter 4 The Goblin King and Sarah

Disclaimer: As much as I wish it, I do not own the labyrinth or any of its characters.

Chapter four: The Goblin King and Sarah

The Goblin King stood in the doorway and watched Sarah sleep. Anyone else would have noticed and appreciated the ornate double mahogany bed with its intricate carvings, or perhaps the large vaulted ceiling made from stone. But his focus was for what lay on top the thick maroon sheets.

She was only three strides away. In three short steps he could be at her side, he could pick her up in his arms, hold her, kiss her… Three steps. Yet she was so far away.

Even though she was just a ghost of her former self, pale, weak, and secretive, he could not help the quickened beating of his heart. Her ebony black hair flowed around her pale face, past her shoulders like an enchanted waterfall. Thick and dark, like her eyelashes, they were beautiful but a contrast to her sickly pallor. She had lost the adolescent weight around her cheeks and jaw, resulting in a sharper, more dignified structure. His eyes slowly traveled down the delicate lines of her throat…

_Sarah…_

He closed his eyes, stopping himself from going any further. She was, after all, the one who left his world…left him. Now, apparently, she was willing to repeat that bitter memory.

For the past two days since she awoke, she would not talk to him. She would turn her head to the side, away from him, gazing out the window, avoiding him. It stung. He would have welcomed her outrage in any form to this lethargic evasion. Because then at least he had her attention.

However much he hated her ignoring him, the worst was her continuing goal of trying to kill herself. She did not eat. In all the time he sat by her side, tried to get her to open up to him, she especially avoided him if he brought food of any sort. She would just slowly turn away from him.

The first time she did that he had lost it. Food was strewn in an angry slash across the floor, accompanied by the long, ringing clang of its metal plate trying to right itself. He had yelled, cursed her, slammed his hand on the drawer, and shattered something, though now he couldn't remember what had dropped.

And her reaction…nothing. She did not jump from the noise, did not bat an eye to his outrage, did not do anything except strangely enough, sigh a sigh of what sounded like…relief?

The next day, he mimicked her silence, hoping to coax her with curiosity. Again, failure. The Goblin King was becoming desperate. He could feel her will to live slipping away. He was afraid with each passing day that he would open the door to find her cold and lifeless.

It was the reason he carried two goblets in each hand that morning. Wine would be too strong for her, but perhaps, under the right ministrations, the right words, she would allow juice. A little sugar if at that but it was better than nothing.

He closed the distance between them quietly, his silky black cape trailing his footsteps with a calm majesty.

She never slept well, he noticed. It was always in short fits, as if she were afraid. Even now, as he placed the goblets on the end table and sat in a lavish chair beside her with elegant curved wooden legs, he could see her expression changing. He watched in horrified fascination as within minutes, a light sheen of perspiration flanked across her now knitted brow.

He leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to gently shake her awake. "Sarah," he breathed.

She gasped, her eyes wide, horrified, unseeing. Her hand struck out with a surprising amount of speed and determination. The slap was aimed at his face but it never made contact.

"Sarah?" he asked, puzzled, as the gloved hand tenderly held her bandaged wrist.

Her eyes took on a new form of shock and horror at what she had nearly done. He realized then that she was not attacking him, but some unknown danger in her dream world.

"It's alright," he whispered, lowering his lips to the back of her hand. "You're safe here."

She looked away, avoiding him again, tugging her hand from his. He reluctantly released her from his grasp. The Goblin king suddenly felt alone and empty.

"I understand you do not like me," he sighed, "I can not expect you trust me… not with what I have done to you in the past…but if this is your way of punishing me," he looked at her then with a strange mixture of anger and anguish, "it is more than I can stand."

He could tell his words hurt her. For a second he was ashamed at himself for mentioning anything that brought her new pain. But then Sarah curled in on herself, he could she her back trembling. Something in his resolve snapped.

_Damn it!_ He cried to himself. Without thinking, he grabbed the goblet, took a healthy mouthful, grasped Sarah's shaking form and pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyelashes speckled with tears lifted to reveal a look of shock.

_Take it damn you! _He mentally cried.

A moment passed.

Then hesitation. He felt her mouth open slightly. The sweet liquid passed between them. Grape she realized.

The juice hit her parched throat with a shocking amount of pleasure, almost as much as the warm lips pressing against her. Sarah was trembling.

The king slowed down his actions as he felt his anger dissipate with the feel of her. He pulled back slightly to lick just the very tip of her bottom lip, before pressing again, coaxing her to reciprocate. She did, opening her mouth just a little, to feel the warmth of him, of all that was the Goblin king. She released a breath she was not aware of holding.

_Jareth…_

He moaned in the back of his throat. He was about to move on, touching her, tasting her, loving her…she could feel it, in the movement of his body and the emotions flying through the room. She could feel herself falling. She had to stop this before it was too late.

He felt the pressure of her two hands. On his chest. Roughly pushing him away. Sarah's eyes blazed with some unknown realization even as the tears dripped down her face in angry drops.

He would have tried to analyze that look more if her other features weren't so distracting. Her cheeks which were white moments ago actually had some color to them, a blush that suffused all the way down her throat. Her breasts were heaving with each emotional breath, the outlines of her arousal showing through the thin satin blouse, and her hair was now in wavy disarray.

She was stunning.

Sarah's mouth opened. His heart leaped. After two days of recuperating sleep, and another two days of silence, she was about to speak him. The words hit him even before they left her mouth.

"Go away."

A/n: Hi, um I know chapter two was in like first POV but it was really hard to maintain that and keep the story going. So my story has sort of faded to a he said/ she said type of narrative. I hope no one minds. And I'm sorry if I take long but ideas are weird for me, either they come really slow, painfully emerging from nothing, or else they blind side me like someone with a bat. Next chapter: Hoggle to the rescue!


	5. Chapter 5 The Land of Forgotten Sorrow

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth. This story is only a reflection of my love for the movie and its characters.

Title: Rising From Ashes

A lark cried in the distance. It was a loud plaintive sound that at first startled then haunted, its echo slowly ebbing just as the sun was setting. A cool breeze rustled the black knobby fingers of dead trees. Sighs and ominous creaks filled the darkened sky.

Hoggle shivered. He tried to ignore everything save the narrow dirt strip he walked upon, its path obscured by dead roots and dry shrubbery. Not many walked this way, toward the garbage heap. As far as he knew, none had traveled back there, only forward, toward the castle. It felt different, like walking backwards. You knew you could physically do it but it required extra caution.

Another breeze blew through his path, only this time it came directly from his intended destination. The smell of dust, mold, and stale childhood dreams caused his nose to wrinkle. He was close. Possibly near the border.

For the hundredth time Hoggle fingered the plastic bracelet around his wrist. It was an unconscious gesture that mildly soothed his raw nerves. He liked the feel of the smooth beads, perfect like glass but much lighter. The beads were his favorite bauble and it always reminded him of Sarah.

It was for Sarah that he came this far. Past the safety of his home and the reassuring gate of the Labyrinth, into a mysterious land he was uncomfortable to be out in past dusk. If something were to attack him now, where could he run? A twig snapped under his foot and the sound brought his mind to the task at hand. Just a little further… Hoggle cautiously stepped around and weaved between large stone boulders before his path.

The ground dropped in an angular slope, that gave him a clear view of the huge chasm filled in with old toys, books, clothing, trinkets, and other childish knick knacks. Sad curls of smoke drifted from numerous mounds over the yard, homes made from haphazard stacks of the same material that littered its misshapen ground. These people lived here. Humans like Sarah, who had forgotten what it was to be human.

He recalled Sarah's reference to this land as the "Trash Heap." But the name was not quite as appropriate as its real given name, the area of space his people called "The Land of Forgotten Sorrow." Ever since he could remember, it was a place where humans could find comfort in the childhood treasures that mysteriously appeared right under their feet. Memories of why they were running the labyrinth disappeared as well as memories of their life before running the maze. It was sad and it was creepy.

He started to slide down the slope, its clumpy dirt surprisingly dry and brittle, as he cautiously climbed down. It was getting dark now but the large crescent moon and the fact that there were no clouds allowed him to see by starlight the small swaying mounds slowly making their way through the rubble. These were the inhabitants, encumbered by their treasures. Singing a song that was simple and in its own way mournful as they wove between piles searching, never finding enough belongings.

"We are the children that time has forgot - leave us as be, remember us naught. We treasure all things that sparkle and gleams - watch where you tread, for you stand on our dreams."

It made Hoggle's hair stand on end. He glanced at one of the residents, gleefully turning on and off a bright yellow flashlight into her face. Her face was round, gray, and mushy. She had lost her humanity many years ago; slowly transformed by the lands magic into…he wasn't quite sure what they were, but something bordering on goblin.

"Excuse me," Hoggle ventured, unsure. "Can youz tell me where the Gray Witch is?"

The girl continued to play with the flashlight, shining it through the thin flesh between her stretched thumb and index finger. Its light fascinated her.

Hoggle sighed and grabbed a rattle at his feet. He shook it and the sound immediately got her attention. She grabbed for it, still holding her precious flashlight.

"Uh uh. Tell me where the Gray Witch is and I'll gives you the rattle."

The ugly girl made a pout, her brows furrowed in irritation. She jerked her arm out and pointed hastily to her right. Any further movement was hampered by the weight of her treasures strapped to her back.

"That way, huh? How far?"

The girl pointed again in the same direction with a harsh motion, but added an angry stomp of her foot.

"Okay – okay. Here you go." The girl snatched the rattle from him and stuck the flashlight into her mouth as she held the rattle with one hand and delicately touched its smooth surface with her amazed fingers.

He noticed her teeth were gone when she stuck the flashlight in, obviously from eating nothing but her favorite candies that were found in bright colored tins.

Remorse touched him. He inwardly cursed himself but still pulled out the small tissue wrapped bundle from inside his shirt. He opened it a little at the side, careful to not drop it, and broke a portion of bread off for her. He laid it close to her feet, rewrapped his dinner and turned in the direction she had earlier pointed.

He knew it would just lie there, eventually becoming moldy and useless, but a part of him liked to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would become curious. That maybe she would pick it up and smell it; maybe take the flashlight out of her mouth and bite into bread, something substantial, and something natural. Maybe the taste and texture would remind her of a life where bread was not uncommon. Served at a table…surrounded by family…

He knew how unlikely it was…but he liked to hope.

Hoggle walked carefully in what he hoped was the right direction. Another walking pile hastily pointed the way when he got turned around by the large mounds and its respective dark alleys. Soon he came to a door. A door standing with no support whatsoever, with nothing before it and nothing behind it but air. He grasped the doorknob and found that the door was locked.

There was only one thing to do with locked doors in the labyrinth. Knock.

His hand, fisted and ready to rap on the pale wood, stops in hesitation. Fear. Fear of what he was doing, of what resided behind the door, of what his actions could result in, made his throat dry and his hand tremble.

The plastic enclosed around his wrist refocused his mind. Sarah. This was about Sarah…his friend. She could not help herself. He, with his knowledge limited to the labyrinth's layout and to various insecticides, could not help her. And surprisingly, Jareth, the Goblin King, with all his power and stubborn will, could not help her.

The Gray Witch was a being rumored to possess knowledge of old magic. Magic that could help Sarah, remind her to desire life over death.

Emboldened Hoggle soundly knocked on the door. A minute passed before an audible click was heard. Then the door soundlessly pulled in, revealing a staircase spiraling down into inky blackness.

"In fer a penny, in fer a pound," he murmured as he stepped beyond the doorframe and into completely unknown territory.

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A/N: I'm sorry for the delay everyone. I will endeavor to write more but right now I can barely keep my eyes open. Thank you for reading. (Falls asleep on the keyboard and dreams of the labyrinth) Zzzzzzzzzz.


	6. Chapter 6 Broken Pieces

A?N: Just a heads up everyone, this is a little longer than my previous chapters and I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote/typed it. Please tell me how to make this better in a review or private message; cuz I'm so tired right now, all the sentences are blurring. And if I've let you down with this story I especially want to know!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth. This story is only a reflection of my love for the movie and its characters.

Title: Rising From Ashes

Chapter 6: Broken Pieces

"Go away."

Jareth blinked, speechless for a moment.

For one treacherous moment, her words affected him, and caused his heart to sink.

Her gaze had broken away in shame as she waited for his wrath. She had expected him to shout and curse like the first day she awoke and turned away from his aid.

The turn of her head, so careful and calculated in its affliction, wounded him more than he would have liked to admit. She expected anger. Jareth realized that perhaps in the past when he knew with certainty that she was strong, that he would have shouted at her. Hell he would have shook some sense into her. It was the danger of the situation and the pain that both parties were drowning in that caused him to act so dispassionately.

"No," he replied, "You are mistaken if you believe I will just walk away."

Her head dipped and she realized she was nodding to sleep. Her brows furrowed and she turned to look at him quizzically.

Jareth lifted his eyes to stare into green eyes fast closing in exhaustion.

"Sleep Sarah."

His voice was soft and his accented words caressed her like a tender farewell. Gentle magic, she realized too late, as slight warmth submerged her into a dreamy fog.

"The juice…" her words trailed off and she could hear music playing at the edge of her consciousness.

He didn't answer but watched as her mouth parted slightly, and he saw the almost imperceptible flick of her tongue. As if she desired one last taste of grape before descending into slumber. Or, his heart madly hoped, one more taste of their first kiss.

Sarah slowly slumped against the bed's headboard with a sigh, its wooden etchings of leaves and mahogany colored blossoms, an angelic framing for her dark hair. Her eyes were dreary slits that slowly lost its focus of the King who stared with disappointment and enduring sympathy.

Gloved hands pulled her shoulders away from the wooden forest and its embankment of pillows, into his embrace. His face was resigned and his soul was sadly calm, as he held her. Her cheek rested against the supple black material that covered his shoulder and slipped down the top of his arm a little. Slender pale arms draped down her side hapless and awkward enfolded by the strength of his leathered grip and silent meditations.

Reluctantly he laid her back against the bed, her head on top pillows as visions of a dance weaved behind her closed eyes.

It was an underhanded trick. Much like the time he ordered Hoggle to give Sarah the enchanted peach.

While it was true he could not force himself into her mind or dreams without her consent or verbal acknowledgment of his power over her, he had some leeway if she accepted something from him. Food or drink was no exception within the labyrinth. It was a shaky contract. The dream would not be substantial for long and if and when she decided to end its hold, she would have the ultimate say, just by acknowledging that she had the power to do so. Dreamers always had, in this case, the upper hand.

He sat himself in a distant corner and looked at Sarah one more time before settling into the spell. Closing his eyes he felt the gentle release of one dimension and the warm invitation of another.

A breeze blew across his face, and suddenly there were the sounds of laughter, bodies moving under heavy gaudy outfits, and the clink of wine glasses. He opened his eyes and it was as if he stepped back through time. He did not see her yet, but he knew she was there, lost amongst the sea of ugly masks and sparkling charm.

For all its weight and sad impression, this shared dream was precious and personal to him. Gold and diamonds worthless compared to its bittersweet eloquence.

He fell in love in this masquerade ball. Under strings of pearls hanging from brass chandeliers, his heart had stirred when she appeared and exalted with her cautious acceptance of a dance. Mutual attraction sparked as her white gloved hand grasped his and they swept together between other couples, tracing a pattern into the floor that his mind would never forget. He fell in love that day…and on the same day felt the acute pain of her refusal.

Of course it was his job to seduce her. Of course she had to refuse him to save her brother. But in a world where black was black and white was white, that particular moment was a wonderful blur of gray. Logic and perspective lost all relevance the instant her hand touched his.

"Sarah," he breathed.

Like Moses before the red sea, the crowd parted before him. Eyes stared behind feathery fans and masks in the direction of the girl. Sarah, sat on a chair alone, the pastel material that was her dress fisted in her hands as her head hung low. She was not surprised to see Jareth before her.

She looked up with wet dazed eyes and saw him dressed exactly as he was that night she bit into a not so innocent peach. His wild hair streaked with blue matched his navy blue sequined jacket. The sapphire broach nearly hidden by the old fashioned ivory ruffles cascading from his lapel. But his face lacked that familiar arrogant luster as he gracefully extended his hand, palm upright.

Music, soft and achingly sweet drifted and set the crowd behind him moving.

"Dance with me Sarah."

He saw her consider, balancing her despair against his expectations and feelings. In the end she knew how much this moment cost him.

Her hand took hold of his and he placed his other hand on the small of her back. Sarah's every action and her demeanor spoke what she dared not physically say as Jareth held her and they gently swayed on the dance floor.

_I'm so sorry._

He hushed her and moved his hand from her back to cradle her head. She tilted her face so that it rested against the warm pulse of his throat and Jareth closed his eyes savoring the soft cool feel of her cheek. Both did not know when they stopped dancing. All they knew was that it was a precious moment, and moments like those never last quite long enough.

He did not have to say it. The words were there between them, she could feel it.

_As the world falls down…I'll be there for you._

_S_he suddenly crushed him with a desperate hold and his arms equally tightened around her.

"Tell me…" he choked as he buried his face in her hair.

_Tell me how to save you._

Her hands clutched the back of his jacket and he could feel her nails dig into the material. The words left her trembling.

"There is nothing inside," she gasped, "if you truly understood – you would not have anything to do with me!"

Shocked and hurt at her mistrust he growled.

"How can you say that!"

Violently she pushed herself away from him.

"Don't you see?" she said, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

It felt overwhelming, her guilt and frustration. A small part of her wanted to push the envelope and show him some extent of her personal demons. Show him what a fool he was for not realizing how unworthy she was of him.

She grasped one of the puffy sleeves of her dress and with an angry cry tore it with a savage rip. The music stopped and dancers around them stepped back. All that could be heard was Sarah's grunts and the ripping of clothing as she shrieked, "This isn't me! This isn't the REAL me!" Amongst the crowd apprehension and fear for the young woman laced the air.

She had torn off both sleeves and flung off one of her hair decorations when Jareth caught her wrists above her head.

"S-stop this! Stop it Sarah!"

Sarah fell on her knees and let out a low hysterical laugh.

Jareth felt a warm slick substance in his hands around his beloved's wrists. He released one of her hands only to stare in horror at blood dripping off his glove. His eyes were wide and his heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Sarah before him. She had taken over the dream, causing it to reflect her chaotic state. Her hair flowed down limp and unadorned. Instead of a dazzling dress a simple white nightgown became her only apparel as her hands bled a crimson carpet beneath her knees.

_This is who I really am, _she thought. But instead of satisfaction for showing her beloved a hint of what he was getting himself into she felt the familiar emptiness and regret.

The King dropped before her. He lifted her chin and rubbed his thumb under her jaw. How he ached at the look of fragile beauty displayed before him. Her ashen skin, gaunt face, and the dark rings under her eyes like bruised skin, refined his resolve to that of frantic helplessness.

"Don't. Don't Sarah…"

Mismatched eyes narrowed, ached with pain and confusion. They begged:

_Come back to me! I will love you, protect you, and cherish you always!_

Her voice was cold and emotionless as she said, "No more illusions Jareth." The power of her gaze startled him even as her tears fell, "That girl is no more."

The use of his name, uttered by her lips, with such hopelessness…it was like his whole being was assailed by sharp points of pain. A hush grew around them as dancing couples disappeared, one after the other, like a mist assailed by an errant breeze.

He gathered her to him again, shaking.

"I refuse to believe that."

It was only a whisper but the power of his conviction reverberated through her body and into the empty hall, rippling the entire dream.

Her heart mellowed its frenzy beat as a wave of concern for the Goblin King rolled through her. She allowed herself one moment to linger in his embrace as her cheek roughly pushed into the ruffles of his shirt. She listened to his heartbeat, a loud erratic lullaby under her ear, and something fractured in her at his pain. It was better this way she decided. He did not have to waste himself on someone like her…all she had to do was eliminate the corrupted factor.

Her whole being sighed as her hands gently pushed against him. Two red handprints marred his white shirt as she whispered into his ear,

"Please take care of Melody for me."

Sarah sadly smiled, resigned as she uttered, "I wish the Goblin King to never enter my dreams again."

"No – Sarah!" He meant to clutch her shoulder but the dream was already unraveling. The walls and mirrors shattered in a ring of sparkling dust.

This time it was the Goblin King who fell past the scattered fragments of the dream, and beyond his outstretched hand his gaze never wavered from the lonely figure sitting demurely on a shiny picturesque world now falling apart.

His dream self slammed back into his body. It was so sudden he nearly hit the back of his head on the wall from its impact. Grasping the arms of the ornamental chair, his knuckles were white and his jaw clenched tight. His body vibrated with a multitude of emotions he could barely keep in check, and all he wished for the moment was an outlet of some sort to vent it all out.

Intensely, he stared at her prone form, lying peacefully on his bed, like a flower that had already bloomed and now waited for the wind to sweep away its fallen petals.

He seethed within. Hating her. Loving her. Wishing for something he could not put into words.

_Someone – help me! I can't bear it anymore!_

Suddenly as if in answer to his plea, a soothing numbness stretched through his body, like long bony fingers reaching to grasp him and pull him under. Mentally exhausted his body succumbed to the promise of respite as his body relaxed under the drug like haze.

"I wish…" he hissed to the curiously cool air and the curtains lifted as if by a magical hand. Though it was a bright day, the lighting of the area dimmed to a certain degree.

There was an air of hushed expectation, as the room waited for his next words. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Behind the fluttering curtains a silhouette came into view with an aura of deep potent magic and malice. Its eyes shone with intelligence and craftiness as it strode toward the Goblin King, cocked its head and smiled.

"Hello Jareth," said Hoggle.

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A/N: Yeah, that was my sorry attempt for a cliffhanger. In a way I am angry at myself. I have written four different versions of this chapter but this one was the only one that somewhat clicked with me. Ever since I first started this story, the ideas have dramatically changed. And changed and changed yet again. I will finish it. I promise you the reader that I will not forsake it, but its flow and pacing I believe will leave a lot to be desired. Despite my ramblings, you have read this far, and you will never know how much I appreciate your patience with me. Thank you.

PS: You didn't miss anything. I'll explain what happened between Hoggle and the Gray Witch in the next chapter (I'm such a lazy writer) :-P Then finally – finally the real story can begin.


	7. Chapter 7 Nothing Is As It Seems

A/N: I want to dedicate this chapter to DanikaLareyna, Anij, and Princess who reviewed and encouraged me on the last chapter. I was in low spirits and their reviews helped me when I was feeling particularly more insecure and depressed about my writing than usual. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth. This story is only a reflection of my love for the movie and its characters.

Title: Rising From Ashes

Chapter 7: Nothing Is As It Seems

"Hello Jareth."

Sidestepping various pieces of furniture, Hoggle casually strode toward the Dazed Goblin King, swaying a small silver censer suspended by a delicate chain of dark gray metal links. Following its pendulum like movement, thin trails of smoke curled and lifted into the air, scenting the room with a sweet and spicy aroma. Hoggle placed the subtly ornate dish beside Jareth's foot where it continued to softly exude dreary plumes.

However, when Hoggle opened his mouth, the words sounded gravely and high pitched, like the voice of a very old female.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor Goblin King. Such a good sport – never breaking the labyrinth's rules…"

Hoggle bends over and scoops up a bit of the smoke in his hand. Methodically he examined this little cloud in his hand, lifted it to his lips, and then softly blew it into his King's face.

Jareth closed his eyes and tilted his head back, moaning. A smug smile played on Hoggle's face.

"It feels good, doesn't it? Not being able to think…unable to feel."

He said the last word with a strange emphasis and the Goblin King slowly nodded his head. Jareth's eyes opened but only a little; they were two glassy orbs that now saw Hoggle smoothing the hair of Sarah.

"The labyrinth is so restrictive. Wouldn't you agree? Once she wished for protection, you were bound to obey. Never more to walk the halls of her mind… or unlock her many secrets. You must find that very painful."

The short dwarf turned toward Jareth and lifted his hand. A gnarled knobby hand shifted through the King's soft fine corn silk hair in an affectionate manner.

"Such a noble King."

Hoggle stood very close; placing his lips near the side of Jareth's nodding head.

"She's dying," the feminine voice said, dark and smooth like a curl of smoke.

A low growl vibrated in Jareth's throat as he pulled his upper lips back to reveal sharp canines.

Hoggle smiled and cupped Jareth's chin, looking at him with warmth and mild curiosity, as if examining a very interesting specimen. The smoke turned an even darker shade, its aroma becoming exceedingly sweet and horrible, like rotten fruit.

"Ah, yes," Hoggle said, "how horribly…unfair."

Jareth closed his eyes and groaned again, agreeing. _Yes, yes, he was right, it was incredibly unfair. Everything Hoggle said made perfect sense. Such a smart friend. So understanding. _

"I can help you. But you must help me. Think about it, you will save Sarah."

Jareth lifted his eyes up from its low stupor. His jaw was slack and he nodded again, vigorously, stupidly. _Anything. Anything for Sarah. Tell me what I must do. I will do anything. Sarah, only Sarah. Help Sarah._

Hoggle nodded as his eyes flashed with a gleam of triumph. Things were going smoothly.

"Give me the token of your power."

Jareth's brows furrowed and suddenly Hoggle felt his King's reluctance.

_My birthright? But I am the King of the Labyrinth. What will happen to my people? What about my respon-_

Hoggle tilted Jareth's face so that his gaze was of Sarah on the bed. Her body was so lithe and her face so pale, floating on a sea of ebony hair. Jareth's face became a twist of pain and wistfullness.

_Beautiful broken Sarah…_

"Right now," Hoggle emphasized, "Sarah is your responsibility. Your only responsibility."

_Sarah…_

Hoggle turned The Goblin King's attention back to himself and spoke in a very soothing voice, "You are only loaning me your power. I will give it right back… Trust me. Trust your good friend."

_Yes, _Jareth thought, _it's only a loan. Hoggle will give it back._

A wicked smile. Just one more push.

"Everything will turn out wonderful. And you will have your beautiful, loving Sarah by your side."

Before Jareth could even think, his hand grasped the arc shaped pendant that rested against his chest. It disappeared and reappeared in Hoggle's hand. Hoggle sighed with satisfaction as he placed it over his head.

"Now," Hoggle smirked, "The incantation. Recite the incantation and I will help you save your Sarah."

Jareth's head nodded to the side, his eyes nearly closed, but he lifted one gloved hand, palm outward. A circle of air shifted around Hoggle's feet as magic began to gain momentum around his diminutive body. A loud crack of lightning flashed outside, dangerously close to the base of the castle's main tower.

"May the Labyrinth grant you the power befitting the one who wears the symbol of the King," Jareth whispered before slumping forward in his chair. The censer was knocked over by his boot and little flecks of ember slowly died among the fallen ash.

There was a green flash all around Hoggle and then everything settled. He looked at his hands, feeling the power flowing in his veins. It was more than he even imagined. He could feel the beating heart of the Labyrinth itself, and each beat, pumped a small surge of power into his being. The mountains, the grass, every inhabitant of the castle, contributed to this source of energy…magic, magic everywhere… and it was part of him.

"At last," he said.

Hoggle lifted his hand and caressed Jareth's cheek as he said, "Sleep well Jareth. Don't worry; you'll see your precious Sarah. After all, I keep most of my promises."

Speaking alien words of black magic, combined with the power of the labyrinth flowing into his body, Hoggle brought forth a figure into the room. It was the thin sleeping body of a hunched over old woman. Her skin was gray, her face rounded, and creased by deep wrinkles; her body clothed in tattered badly sewn robes of various materials. Her hair was a long sweep of white.

Hoggle clutched the pendant hardly able to contain his glee as he stepped near and towered over the unconscious body on the floor.

"Wake up Hoggle. I will have my body back now."

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A/N: Okay I lied; I didn't explain what happened yet with Hoggle and the Gray witch (Bad girl! Bad!) But I was so excited for once with my idea that it just had to be put on my laptop. Eeee! (Jumping around) I really like what I did for once. And it was a quick update! Miracles really do happen! Yay, happy reading, and please tell me what you think!


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